


Ours

by GabyGBlondie



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Adoption, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Community: makinghugospin, Cosette And Enjolras Are Siblings, F/M, Family, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Kid Fic, Kink Meme, M/M, Past Child Abuse, Prompt Fill, blood siblings, but not really, children!amis, cute children being cute, headcanons self-indulgency yay, just lots of kid fluff really, sort of, sort of incest later on
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-21
Updated: 2016-07-04
Packaged: 2018-02-22 00:48:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2488283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GabyGBlondie/pseuds/GabyGBlondie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Javert comes across some abused children during his job as a policeman, he takes them home so he and his husband, Jean Valjean, can care for them.</p><p>As time pass, they've come to realize that when children are concerned, the more, the merrier.  Soon they find themselves with more little ones than they could ever dream of having.</p><p>Inspired by a prompt on Makinghugospin! :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hm, okay. So, this is the first multi-chaptered fic I risk myself on publishing.
> 
> It kinda fills this prompt on round 6 of makinghugospin that suggested Valvert adopted all of Les Amis, but since I bend the idea a little bit, this became more of a rtyi than a proper fill, so I won't link it here.  
> English is not my first language, so I apologize for any mistakes you may find and am gleefully welcoming any beta reader that might be interested in helping me improve my work!
> 
> I put this on the tags too, but I'll reforce it: unlike the others, who are siblings by adoption, Enjolras and Cosette are blood siblings here! I guess I've been working in a private rp with this universe for so long that I got quite attatched to the idea... But it doesn't really affect the plotline here so much, except that Enjolras' mother is Fantine!
> 
> In this prologue, we get a little back story for our dearest daddies!
> 
> Hope you'll enjoy!

Prologue

            Jean Valjean entered at his house completely numb, barely noticing as he put the key in the hole and pushed the door open. His eyes only showed a flicker of life when his boyfriend came towards him and wrapped him in his muscular arms.

            He buried his head on Javert’s shoulder, letting the sobs he had been holding all the trip back from Mont-Sur-Meir out of his chest. He had failed. That hurt more than he would care to admit.

            “She’s dead, Daniel”, he muttered against Javert’s chest, even though he had already texted him with the sad news. But Valjean felt as if he wouldn’t ever admit to himself if he didn’t say it out loud. “Fantine is dead.”

            “I know, _cheré._ ” Javert said, his broad chest vibrating with every word that came from his deep voice. “I’m so sorry.”

            Javert had followed from afar the whole ordeal with this woman. It had started a little after he and Valjean had come out in the opening about their feelings for each other. He had helped Valjean to clean his name after he found out he was innocent, and it didn’t take very long for their romance to start after that.

            Feeling as if he didn’t belong in the life of mayor Madeleine anymore, Valjean had renounced to the post and sold his factory, investing much of the money in the estate business in Paris, to where Javert had been longing for a transfer for a while now. When it finally came, around two or three months after they had started dating, they took the bold decision to leave Montre-Sur-Mere and live together in Paris, where Valjean also induced in a lifelong dream of becoming an elementary school teacher.

            They had been living on this arrangement for quite a long time, and life had been rather uneventful for them, which was a relief after years of troubled lives for both of them. But on one of their visits to Montre-sur-Mere, it had come to Valjean’s knowledge that one of the worker on his factory had been fired after he left and had fallen in disgrace ever since. The poor woman had gone very low to get money to send for her children, and was now extremely sick.

            Overcome by guilt, Valjean had taken as his responsibility to see her healthy again, getting her to Paris and giving her to the care of the best doctors money could buy. Knowing his boyfriend as he did, Javert didn’t interfere, choosing instead just to support him in any way he could.

            In the end, though, the effort had been in vain; after fighting her disease for a very long while, Fantine had finally given her last breath on that night. It had made Valjean overflow with guilt, and it was that guilt that he was now dropping on Javert’s chest.

            “She… She never got to see her children again.” He sobbed, and Javert caressed his auburn hair, kissing the top of his head. “I promised her I’d find them, but I don’t even know where to start!...”  
            Javert didn’t know either, but he wouldn’t tell Valjean that. It wasn’t time for his blunt honesty or practically; all his love needed right now was comfort. One year ago and Javert wouldn’t know the difference, nor would he care. Now he knew, and cared more than anything in the world.

            “Don’t worry, sweetheart. We’ll find a way, I promise you.” He told him, caressing his cheek. “Not right now, though. Now let’s get you into bed, hm?” Javert took his hand and led him to their bedroom, and then got them both lying down, cuddling Valjean close. They could worry about PJ’s later, when Valjean was feeling better.

            They lay there for a long while, a tender silence falling between them. Javert kept a soothing hand around Valjean, who still had his head on his boyfriend’s chest.

            “Javert?” He muttered, and Javert was happy to notice he sounded much more like his normal self now. "I... I want to say something to you. Ask you something, actually." 

            “Yes, Jean? What is it?” He asked, and Valjean came even closer, searching his mouth for a long kiss. Javert gladly returned it, hoping this could help Jean to feel better. He hated to see his love desperate or feeling bad in any manner. “Very well said”, he joked, and Valjean chuckled.

            “Thank you, but what I meant to say something far more important.” Valjean clarified, and Javert looked at him, noticing a seriousness in his eyes. “I want you to marry me.”  
            Javert stared at him for a long while, trying to wrap his brain over what Valjean had just said. He must have understood it wrong. If there was a time on their relationship where Javert had been expecting this, it certainly wasn’t that. But Valjean apparently toook his silence for something other than just plain surprise, because the poor man sat upright on the bed and hurried to justify himself.

            “I… Please don’t think this is born out of grief or a rushed decision or something like that!" Valjean exclaimed, the words coming from him in a bolt, as if he was desperate to make Javert understand. "I… I wanted to propose to you for a long while now, but…But I guess I was waiting until I bought a ring and until I could plan the perfect moment. I... I learned today that life’s too short for this kind of thing. I love you and I want to be with you forever. So…” He sighed, taking Javert’s two hands on his. “Daniel Javert, will you marry me?”

  
            And Javert, who was a man very well known for being practical and never taking a rushed decision in his life, didn’t think for even a whole second before kissing Jean Valjean deeply and answering to his question.

            “Yes, Jean. I will.”


	2. The family begins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Javert's work leads him to a particularly bad looking inn, and there he finds three young children who are in desperate need of help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!!
> 
> I am so so sorry it took me so long to update, but life sometimes is a bitch and not only takes away our time to write, but also our inspiration ç.ç
> 
> Anyway, I hope you'll all enjoy this new chapter, please let me know what you think!
> 
> Feel free to message me on tumblr too: http://whatasillyidea.tumblr.com/

All in all, Valjean didn’t appreciate when his husband (six months into their marriage and he still got delighted to say those two words, even for himself!) had to work late. He knew that, to Javert, his job was of huge importance and that he devoted himself to it; Valjean didn’t mind. He had known Javert to be like that ever since they had first met, in very worse circumstances; he wouldn’t have him any other way.

But, still, nightshifts felt just like Valjean imagined Hell to be. He’d walk around their huge house, pretending to correct his students’ homework or tests, or pretending to watch TV, while in reality he was just keeping his eyes on the clock and his ears on the door, hoping to hear a key turning in it.

_He’s fine_. He tried telling himself, after checking his cell phone for the God knows what time that night (no messages or calls). _He’s just caught up in some paperwork, like he always does. He’ll be home all safe and sound when his shift is over, and then you’ll hug him for the rest of your lives._

The last part, about the hug, was true no matter what scenario was actually happening to his husband in reality, so Valjean could easily convince himself of that. The rest, though, was very much away from his control, and probably very afar from reality.

At that point, all Valjean could do was wonder about two things. The first one was why on Earth he had fallen in love with a policeman instead of someone with a normal job. The second one was what his beloved Javert could be doing.

 

            PAGE BREAK

 

            One thing Javert _wasn’t_ doing for sure: paperwork. After months of searching, he and his men had finally found a solid track that led towards Patron-Minette, a gang who acted on town and also on smaller cities on the outskirts of Paris. They had found few members of them, but none that could lead them to bigger fish, at least not until now.

            But this Broujon fellow, a drug dealer who had covered his tracks pretty well for a long time, had finally let something slip near a policeman who was undercover, and they had managed to put a tracker on his car. The constant trips of the man between Paris and Montfermeil left no doubt: that’s where their headquarters (and, for consequence, their boss) worked.

            Never one to lose any time, Javert had already gathered some of his best men and put himself on that track, heading straight towards Montfermeil. There was no feeling compared to the rush of going after criminals (though being with Valjean in bed came _very_ close). He saw on the GPS when Broujon turned a corner, and followed straight. The boy beside him (an intern; who had been sadistic enough to place an _intern_ with him? – and nevermind what people at the station were saying that he had gone _soft_ after his wedding. What an idea.) eagerly stared at Javert and then at the car who had turned.

            “Sir! Aren’t we going to follow him?” He asked in the verge of panic, and Javert sighed, trying to keep his patience. The kid thought he had started this yesterday?

            “No, we’re not, officer. That’s why we put on a tracker on his car. If he notices us following him in every corner he turns, he’ll run from us and we’ll lose our track.”

            Perhaps the boy had meant to say something else, but then the tracker started beeping. Their lead had stopped the car in an alley. Javert smirked. _I got them._

            “ _Now_ we’re following him, officer.” He said, and started the car. “Call the rest of the gang and tell them to meet us there. They aren’t to put the sirens on.”

            Javert rushed with his car, entering the alley where the car was. It would be easier than he thought. There was only one lit place in the street, a filthy inn with unbearable amounts of noise. He could easily get in with a charge of loud sounds, and once in there, get the whole gang arrested.

            He waited until the other cars had paired up with him, and got out of the car. The intern got out, his eyes as huge as plates, and Javert felt sorry for him. He had once been that scared, even younger than the boy was now, when he started working in Toulon. And Toulon was much safer than street work. He patted the kid’s shoulder.

            “It’ll be fine, kid. Stay in the back and keep your gun in reach. We’ve got this.” He whispered, and the boy nodded frantically, not looking so much as a deer caught in rails anymore.

            Javert nodded to one of the men who was approaching, and he gave him the thumbs up. They had gone through many cases together, and knew very well how to work as a pair. The commandant approached them, a gun in his hand.

            “Javert, you’re in charge of this.” He said. “Go ahead.”  
            Not needing to hear it twice, Javert nodded and crossed the way until the inn. It was an old and dirty building, stinking of old ale and piss. He wanted to get this over with and go home. A man with a crooked smile and a limp approached Javert, who recognized in him a con instantly. Whoever this was, he was part of the gang.

            “Good evening, sir.” He said with a mocking bow. “How can old Thernadier ‘elp you out?”

            “Sir, I’m afraid your inn has received quite a few reports regarding its noise, not to mention it is also the target of investigation for a gang specialized on drug dealing. I’ll have to run an inspection over it.” He said, showing his badge, and Thernadier’s smile only slightly faltered. If Javert hadn’t spent so much time of his life dealing with crooks, he wouldn’t have noticed.

            “Sure, officer. Be my guest.” He said, and Javert motioned for the policemen on the door. They entered the inn, and he saw the worry on Thernadier’s face. He probably thought Javert was alone and that he could manhandle him. Well, he had another thing coming.

            “Split up” He said to them, his eyes still fixated on Thernadier, just in case he might try something funny. “Report to me anything you find that it’s weird.”

            “I don’t think so, officer.” A raspy voice said, and Javert felt the always-panicking feeling of a gun being held against his head. Thernadier smirked, and Javert cursed himself (and his companions) for their stupidity. “You and your friends will leave. _Now_.”

            Javert’s partner looked at him, his eyes holding a question, and he answered with the slightest movement of eyes. He _wasn’t_ supposed to put his gun down.

            “Put your damn guns DOWN!” Broujon yelled in Javert’s ear, giving him a chain lock. He didn’t waste any time to put everything he had learned in Toulon to work, and elbowed the man’s groin.

            Broujon fell to the floor, his gun finally away from Javert’s head, which by itself allowed him to think better. Thernadier came to action quickly, though, punching Javert’s face with strength enough to drop him on the floor. He cursed under his breath, his hand flying to his cracked lip and wiping off the blood as he got up. Damn, Valjean would make a huge fuss about that when he came home.

            And, of course, by now the whole thing had become a huge mess, and even Thernadier’s wife had come into the fight. Javert had to say he was proud of his men; they were working fast and clean, just as they were supposed to. He was about to get back in it to help when he heard three soft voices coming from upstairs, joined with knocks on a door.

            _Children_ , he thought. There were children on that filthy peace of Earth. Valjean couldn’t believe it, as much as he couldn’t believe someone as _that man_ had been granted with kids when he and Valjean… _It’s not time to think about that_ , he reminded himself. He had to help those kids.

            As Javert reached the door from which the noise was coming, he already knew it was locked, so he didn’t waste any time. Taking his gun from its holster, he shot the lock, hearing three scared shouts just after it. Damn. That was certainly not his intention, but oh well. He opened the now ruined door, and was met with a heart breaking sight.

            Three young children were staring at him, two girls and a boy. All of them were dressed in rags and displayed the same scared expression and bony figures. One of the girls and the boy looked very much alike, with knotted blond hair and similar faces; Valjean imagined they were siblings, though maybe it was their sickliness that made them similar. The other girl had brown messy hair and deep dark eyes, and was slightly less malnourished than the other two. All of them showed bruises and cuts in their faces and arms, and Javert also thought he had seen a cigarette burn on the boy’s shoulder before he moved and it got covered by his filthy T-shirt.

            Javert kneeled down to their level, trying his best to offer them a soft smile. Dealing with kids was not much of his thing; Valjean was so much better at this then he was. But he would make an effort, though; they were very scared as it was.

            “Hey there, children. Is everything alright?” But of course it wasn’t alright. The police had just invaded their home. Stupid him for asking. “I… I mean, are you hurt? Why were you locked up here?”

            “What happened to my father?” The brunette girl asked, biting her lips. “Is… Is ‘e dead? Did you lot kill him?”

            “Who’s your father, child?” He asked, trying his best to keep his patience. The kid was probably repeating stuff she had learned from her parents about the Police.

            “He’s the owner, Thernadier. Are he and my mom okay? Or did you kill him?” She asked, trying to put on some bravery in her voice. Javert held back a sigh of frustration. Here he was, trying his best not to frighten these kids, and yet she was terrified of him.

            “Your father isn’t dead, I assure you, my girl.” He said in the softest voice he could manage. “But… But I’m afraid he will get arrested for his actions. Are… are all of you his children?” He asked, looking at the two blonde kids. They looked nothing like the other girl, let alone the couple he had seen downstairs.

            “No, sir.” The boy answered, wrapping an arm around the smaller girl. “Me and my sister are just his foster children. Will we still have to be if he’s arrested?”

            “I… No, I don’t think so. We’ll have to contact social services in the matter.” Javert answered, and gave them a small smile that the smaller girl returned. “What are your names, children?”

            “I’m Cosette Tholomyés.” The smaller girl piped up, talking for the first time since Javert had entered the room. The name rang a bell to him, but he wasn’t sure why. “This is my brother Enjolras and our foster sister is Éponine. Will… Will we go to an orphanage, sir?”

            The three of them stared at him, their eyes full of fear and plea. Javert didn’t want to see them in an orphanage; in no way he wanted that. It hadn’t worked well for the two siblings and he knew the chance of not going well again was pretty big.

            “No, Cosette, you won’t. At least not for now. I will just contact Social Services in the morning, then they will decide what will happen. But I’ll make sure they know how you children feel about it, I promise.” Javert said, because that was all he could promise.

            “And meanwhile? Where will we go?” Éponine asked, her eyes filled with dread.

            Javert threw them a smile, because for that one question he knew the answer. In some part of his mind, he had been planning it ever since he had found the three children in that dark small room.

            “Why, for tonight you’re coming to my house. I bet my husband will be very pleased.”


	3. Ghosts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Javert takes the children home, and Valjean has to face a ghost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OMG, I can't even begin to apologize for taking so long to update this! I was hit with the worst writer's block ever, and I am so so sorry!
> 
> I promise I found my track on this one again, though. I won't promise regular updates bc it's pretty clear I am no good with those, but I'll at least try to warn you if I see it's gonna take me too long
> 
> Anyway, I hope you'll enjoy this chapter!  
> xxxxx

At this point, Valjean was past pretending he wasn’t worried about Javert, since it was already forty minutes past the end of his shift. And Javert always called at the end of his shift. He had already stopped trying to correct his students’ homework, given up on cooking dinner, and even though the TV was on, he had absolutely no idea what he was watching. He was just staring at his phone, waiting for the moment it would ring, letting him know either that his husband was safe and on his way home or that…

Well. It wouldn’t do him any good to deal on ‘if’s and ‘or’s, would it?

“C’mon, Javert”, he muttered, his grip on the phone tightening by the minute. “You know it drives me crazy when you don’t call, so please call!...”

But, of course, the stupid phone just kept staring at him, which didn’t ease at all the tightness in his chest. Images of Javert hurt wouldn’t stop sprinting in his mind, and he chose to instead stare at the TV, trying to focus on what was on. As it turned out, it was a Star Wars marathon, which caught at least some of his attention. He turned up the volume, keeping an eye on the screen and the other one on his phone.

Valjean wasn’t sure at which point during that had he fallen asleep. All he knew was that he was woken with a jolt by his phone ringing. He took one or two seconds to realize where he was and what was going on, but then he looked at his cell phone to see Javert’s face smiling at him. He was finally calling. Valjean picked up so fast the phone almost fell off his hand.

“Hey, it’s you! Are you alright? Why didn’t you call before? I was so worried, love!” He rambled in one breath, and heard Javert sigh on the other end.

“Hi, darling. Don’t worry, I’m just fine. I got a bit caught up tonight, didn’t have time to call, I’m sorry.” He said, and Valjean let out a relieved sigh. Forgetting to call was way better than being unable to call. 

“That’s alright. Are you coming home now? It’s a bit late for me to cook dinner, but I can order something if you’re hungry.” He said, checking his wristwatch.  
“Yes, please do, love. And…” Javert said, and hesitated. Valjean frowned; it wasn’t usual for his husband to hesitate about anything. “…and order enough for five, please. I’m bringing some guests.”

Now Valjean was really surprised. It’s not that Javert was hated by his co-workers. But he didn’t have friends at his work either; he had always been kind of a loner. And now, by Valjean’s math, he was bringing three to their house for dinner?!

“Hm. O… Okay. I’ll have two pizzas delivered, is that alright with you?”.  
“Yes, pizza shall be fine.” Javert said, and Valjean could feel a smile on his voice. “I’ll see you in a bit. I love you, you know?”  
“I love you too, sweetheart.” He answered softly, and waited until Javert had hung up. 

Once he had, Valjean got up, feeling much lighter. His Javert would be home soon, and safe and sound for what it sounded. That was priceless, and he muttered a silent prayer to God for taking care of his darling. He called the pizza place and ordered two extra large ones, making sure to get an entire one of pepperoni, Javert’s favourite. He always got home starving from his shifts, especially when he was doing rounds. 

He was setting the table when he heard the key turning on the door, and ran the fastest he could for the living room. What he saw, however, made him stop dumbstruck at the kitchen’s doorframe.

Javert had brought three guests home alright. But they happened to be three young children, and malnourished ones for their looks. They looked around the house, their gazes turning between scared and amazed. Valjean stared at Javert, a frown upon his face, but once he saw that his husband’s lips were bleeding, he forgot immediately why he was confused.

”Oh my God, love, what happened?! Is it hurting too bad?! Do you want me to get you some ice? It will get swollen very soon…” He said, a hand over the small crack, and Javert flinched slightly, wrinkling his nose with his cheeks slightly flushed.  
“Jean, I’m quite alright” He said, with a small smile. “I… I would like you to introduce to this little lot. These are Enjolras, Cosette and Èponine.” Javert pointed to the three children, who got closer to each other, as if afraid of Valjean. That made his heart ache, and he crouched down to their level, placing the kindest smile he could in his lips.  
“Hello there, children. My name is Jean and it’s very nice to meet you. I expect you’re quite hungry?” He questioned, and the littlest of them, the blond girl, nodded.

“Starving, sir.” She said, and her brother (at least he thought the boy was her brother – they looked so much alike!) gave her some sort of warning glare. Valjean chuckled slightly, to let them know her answer hadn’t offended or upset him in any manner.  
“I shall hope so, because there’s a huge pizza on its way here right now. Why don’t the three of you go wash your hands before it gets here, hm? The bathroom is right here” He said, walking to the proper door and opening it for them. The other girl looked to Javert, biting her lips.  
“Is… Is that we’re supposed to do, mister Javert?” She asked, and Javert nodded gently, his shoulders giving away just how tiring his night had been. 

“Yes, Èponine, that’s what we would like you to do. Don’t worry, we’ll be right here outside if any of you need anything.”  
That seemed to reassure the children, and they slowly made their way to the bathroom. Valjean wanted until he heard the faucet running before turning to Javert with a frown.

“Love, would you care to explain why you brought three unknown children to our home?” He whispered, not completely managing to keep a note of exasperation out of his voice. Javert never acted on impulse and he chose a matter as serious as three young children to do so.

“Okay, please don’t freak out, but… Well. I was doing a round tonight and it ended sort of… badly.” He muttered, and went on before Valjean could react. “I am fine, okay, so don’t worry too much. But I got this dealer in jail. And… and these three children were under his care. Cosette and Enjolras – the blond ones - were his foster children, and the other girl is his birth daughter. Jean, they were so scared over the whole fight, I… I just couldn’t let them spend the night in an orphanage or...” Javert sighed, a blush creeping into his cheeks. “I just wanted to be sure they’d be safe, love. Go ahead and yell at me now if you want, I know I was too impulsive.”

But Valjean had never felt less like yelling at Javert in his life. On the opposite, what he did was press a kiss into his mouth and caress his cheek. Caught by surprise, Javert stared at him, aghast, and Valjean gave him a gentle smile, his fingers playing with his husband’s hair.  
“Darling, it’s alright. I am proud to see you were so thoughtful on this matter. You’re right, they are already scared enough without finding themselves in a place full of other children. Let’s make them feel welcome at here, shall we?”

Javert smiled at him, relief spread all over his face. He hugged Valjean tight, and he returned the embrace even tighter. It took a huge weight off his chest, having his darling husband home safe and sound. Valjean could barely wait until the moment they’d both be in bed and he could watch him being asleep, finally resting after an exhausting day such as this…

“M’sieur Javert? We… We’re done with our hands, sir.” The boy (Enjolras, Javert had called him) said in a small voice. Javert got himself away from Valjean’s embrace, and turned to him. He was embracing himself, his blue eyes shining with shyness and a tinge of fear. 

Valjean frowned, puzzled. He could swear he had seen eyes much like his before, but how could he have? He was sure Enjolras wasn’t at the private school he taught, not judging by the rags he and the girls were wearing. Then where?  
“That’s good, Enjolras.” Javert said, slightly clapping the kid’s shoulder. Valjean couldn’t help but notice how he tensed when Javert’s big hand approached him, and relaxed slightly when he realized the touch wasn’t meant to be aggressive. That didn’t please him in the slightest.

“Enjolras? Would you mind if I ask you and your sisters some questions before dinner gets here?” He asked, and both Javert and the boy frowned at him. Before Enjolras could answer, though, the two girls entered the room.  
“I ain’t his sister, sir.” The dark-haired girl piped up, and Valjean thought he could hear a hint of disappointment in her voice. “He and Cosette are related, but I ain’t.”

“Éponine is the child of the Thernadiers, Jean. The owners of the inn where I found them.” Javert said, and Valjean nodded, giving the girl a small smile. She only looked blankly back at him, and he wondered when was the last time this poor girl had received any sort of encouragement or affection.  
“I see. And what about the two of you? Where are your parents, children?” He asked the other two.

“We… We don’t know, sir” Cosette said, shrinking herself closer to her brother, as if only speaking to Valjean was enough to cause her fear. He frowned with her vague answer.

“What… What do you mean, dear? How did you end up in Éponine’s family’s care?”   
“It was when I was six, sir. Our father had left Maman when Cosette was still in her tummy. Then… Then she couldn’t afford taking care of us. She had to go looking for a job and we ended up in the system. She… She promised to come back for us, but she never did.” He told Valjean, quickly wiping his eyes. The teacher had a hard time holding back his own tears, feeling his heart breaking a little for the boy’s crying. “I remember her well. I think of her every day. Her name’s Fantine…”

Jean looked up at Javert so fast his neck cracked, and he was sure his own expression showed the same thing as his husband’s: surprise and doubt. Surely it was way too much coincidence? 

“F… Fantine, darling? How’s she like?” Javert asked, with a careful look to Valjean. He didn’t want to see his husband’s hopes crashed.   
“She is pretty, m’sieur. With long brown hair and beautiful beautiful green eyes like Sette’s… And she’s very kind and nice to everyone and… I… I miss her very much.” He said, barely able to keep the tears away.

“I… I can quite imagine, dear.” Valjean said, and he was pretty sure his voice sounded weird, uncontrolled, strained, because that little girl who was staring at him had the same eyes of the woman that had died in his arms less than a year ago. That poor woman who never saw her beloved children again. A boy and a girl. ‘They are my everything, m’sieur.’, she had said. ‘My babies are so tiny, will you please care for them when I can’t?’.  
“Enjolras” Javert said, taking Valjean out of his stupor. The boy turned him, a fearful look on his eyes, and slightly shrank away from them. “What… What was your mother’s last name?”  
“It… It was… I don’t remember, m’sieur. I am sorry!” He rushed to explain, his eyes widening and his skinny arms wrapping his little sister’s chest. “I… I think it was the same as ours… Tholomyés…”

But it wasn’t. Fantine’s surname had gotten itself lost on Valjean’s memory, but he knew it wasn’t Tholomyes for sure, and for a very simple reason: she had said that was the last name of the children’s father. A dread feeling started to spread throughout Valjean’s body, his fingertips starting to feel numb.

Because these children in front of him, they had her eyes, and they were so so scared and malnourished and dear God, Fantine would have her heart broken if she saw her dear children like that. Guilt pierced through Valjean’s chest like the sharpest knife, and he was starting to find it hard to breathe.

“Love” Javert’s deep voice seemed to reach him from a very faraway place. “Why don’t you go and finish setting the table? I’ll help these little ones to get settled”

“I… Of course.” He said, and forced a smile to the three children, who were staring at him with some apprehension. The last thing Valjean wanted was to scare them even more.  
He shot a grateful look to Javert, kissing his cheek on the way to the kitchen. Once he was there, he took deep breaths, allowing the tears he had been holding to roll down his cheeks. He felt so guilty for not dedicating more time on finding Fantine’s kids. How much suffering could he have spared them if he had found them sooner?! Their mother had died trying to make sure they were cared for and they had ended up in a drug dealer’s care.

And that poor little girl with them, Èponine, who had been born in such an environment… she looked minimally better cared than Enjolras and Cosette, but still neglected, if not outright abused. He couldn’t let her go back to her family. He couldn’t let any of them go back.  
“Come here, love” Javert’s voice brought him back from his thoughts, and he buried himself into his husband’s arms, sighing and resting his head on his shoulder.

“It’s my fault, Daniel. I should have gotten to them sooner, I should have…” But he didn’t manage to say any more, just heaving a broken sigh. Javert kissed the top of his head, stroking his hair.   
“Shh, it’s not your fault, Jean. You were trying so hard, but you barely had anything to go by… It was by God’s grace I found them, and we’re not letting them go anymore. I promise.”

Valjean looked up at him, surprise filling his features. Had Javert actually said that? The two of them had discussed adopting kids once or twice, but as something much further down the road. But now, with these three scared kids under their roof…

“Darling… are you sure?” Valjean asked, and Javert smiled, kissing him deeply.  
“Yes, Jean. I am sure.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that's we have for now, guys! Hope you liked it :D
> 
> Coming up: a tragedy leaves a kid unable to communicate, and Valjean is called to the rescue...


	4. Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the children settle into their new lives, a phone call disturbs the family peace

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ohhhh wow, at least I didn't take almost a year this time!
> 
> I would like to thank you all so very much for your understanding and ever present support through this fic! You keep me writing and I hope you enjoy this chapter! 
> 
> As always, feel very welcome to comment with suggestions and critics :D
> 
> I love you guys <3

Enjolras didn’t quite understand how his life had made a 180º turn lately, but he wasn’t about to complain either. It had all started on the night the Police broke into the inn and officer Javert had taken him and the girls to his place. Enjolras had thought they would spend the night there (probably because there was nowhere else they could go) and the officer and his husband would want to get rid of them as soon as the sun rose in the morning.

But then, in the next day, monsieur Valjean had told them about Maman. How he had met her, tried to save her and ultimately had seen her die. As much as he had tried, Enjolras hadn’t been able to hold back his tears when he had learned his mother was gone. Instead of calling him a wuss like Thernadier would have done, Javert had given him a hug, keeping a hand on his shoulder through the rest of the conversation, which turned out to be the best in Enjolras’ life.  
Instead of saying they wanted the three of them out of their home as soon as possible, the couple had done the exact opposite: they had told the kids they wished to adopt them!

Cosette and Enjolras had been more than thrilled about it; anything to get away from Thernadier. Since the man had been arrested, he held no rights over them anymore, and their situation had been quite easy to solve.

Èponine, however, hadn’t been so excited. Her parents hadn’t been as bad to her as they had to their foster kids, and she held affection for them. Besides, legally they still had her custody. So, after some discussion that involved a really nice social worker, she had agreed on becoming their foster daughter, at least while her parents’ situation was being taken care of.

They were settling down quite well in this new life. Their new house was big and comfortable, and each one of them had their own rooms. Not only that, but they had their own clothes and things now; they didn’t have to share a thin filthy blanket or wear old rags anymore. Not only that; monsieur Valjean had said that on the next school year they would go to this fantastic place where he taught. But the most amazing thing about this place were their owners.

Officer Javert, despite being a policeman who dealt with drug dealers and thugs on a daily basis, was surprisingly gentle with the three of them. He was always willing to run around with them, not to mention spend hours on the house pool, playing and swimming. He didn’t laugh as often as monsieur Valjean, but when he did, it was contagious. He was a videogame fan, and had been showing all kinds of cool games to Enjolras, never being mad at him when he didn’t play it as it should be or when he lost. That in itself was something new, and Enjolras enjoyed immensely to spend time with him.

Monsieur Valjean was awesome too; he was a Literature teacher and a real smart one at that, knowing every book there was to know. In the evening, it wasn’t uncommon to find him with a book on his hands, reading the stories out loud to the kids, going through every voice and emotion as he did so, with one or both of the girls sitting on his legs. Cosette simply adored him; whenever he was home, she followed him around, amazed with everything he did. His sister had always been awfully quiet, but with Valjean, she seemed to feel safe enough to come out of her shell, chattering on happily about whatever she felt like. The man had an infinite patience, and always seemed interested in whatever any of them had to say. His cooking was divine, and Enjolras had grown pretty fond of his habit of muttering tunes under his breath as he cooked. 

They also worked perfectly as a couple. On more than one occasion, Enjolras had heard from Thernadier that men like them were worthless and depraved, but that was not what he saw there. What he did see were two men deeply in love, and that showed on the little things. How they would kiss each other’s cheek whenever they crossed paths; how they called each other ‘love’ and ‘chère’ with such fondness in their voice; how monsieur Valjean always made sure his husband had eaten well before a shift; how officer Javert would chuckle so fondly when he noticed Valjean had forgotten a book for his class, leaving right away to take it to him.

And all that affection they had to each other, they were willing to show them. Enjolras hadn’t had anyone caring so much about him ever since leaving his mother’s care. It was weird having someone doing his laundry and making sure he was fed and healthy and comfortable. Like a parent would. He hadn’t quite grasped how true this was until the morning Cosette, still quite sleepily, asked monsieur Valjean a very innocent question.

“Can I have some milk, please, Papa?” She asked, and, instantly her eyes widened, as did Enjolras’ and Èponine’s. They all remembered what had happened when she had called Thernadier that. It had been the first time he had beaten her, still a little toddler then, and she hadn’t ever said it since. It was clear she expected the same thing from Valjean, but the man, with a wide grin on his face, kissed her cheek and placed the milk in front of her.

“There you go, sweetheart” He said, and went back to his newspaper. The three kids looked at him, then at monsieur Javert, who was drinking his coffee and acting as if nothing unusual had happened, and then between one another, amazement in their eyes. 

There was such… domesticity in that breakfast, it was something they had never known at Thernadier’s house. Sharing a meal, making small talk, having parents who cared about them. It was different, it was new, and if they were being honest with themselves… it was quite wonderful

\- PAGE BREAK –   
Valjean could honestly say at this point that he had never been happier in his life. The three kids that he was caring for (his kids, at least in his heart) were the perfect way to complete his and Javert’s life. When Cosette and Enjolras had, even if somewhat hesitantly, started calling them ‘Papa’ and ‘Dad’, he thought the only way of things getting better would be if they finally managed to adopt Èponine. 

Of course, he had no way of knowing he was wrong. 

It was a Tuesday morning and he was having breakfast with his family (his family. How incredible was that?) when his phone rang. Valjean picked it up and frowned when he noticed the call was coming from the school where he taught. After adopting Enjolras and Cosette, his boss had granted him a bit of family leave; he was fairly certain it wasn’t supposed to end just yet. Nevertheless, he answered the phone.

“Hello?”  
“Jean! I am so sorry to bother you in your leave, my boy, but you know I wouldn’t if it wasn’t important!” He was immediately greeted by the headmaster himself, monsieur Digne. Valjean had nothing but deep respect for the man; he could never be upset to receive a call from him.

“Good morning, sir. Please don’t worry about it. How can I help you?” He offered, and Javert looked at him, a frown in his features. Valjean shrugged, waiting for monsieur Digne’s answer.

“Well, do… do you remember monsieur Courfeyrac?” 

“The guitar teacher? Yes, of course I do!” Valjean was rather fond of Michel Courfeyrac, the man who taught guitar to the younger kids. He was a talkative, joyful and funny man, and Valjean couldn’t ever remember seeing him in a bad mood. “What about him?”

“He…” Monsieur Digne sighed, and a bad feeling settled on Valjean’s stomach. “Oh, Jean, a fire destroyed his house and his family. Him and his wife are dead and… and only one of his children survived.”

Valjean gasped, getting surprised looks from Javert and their children, but he could not bother to explain right now. He was too stunned. He couldn’t believe such a tragedy had come upon such a good man like Courfeyrac. For almost a minute, he didn’t say a thing, and then remembered monsieur Digne was still on the phone.

“Good Lord, sir, I… This is terrible! What… what can I do to help?” He asked, because he wanted to, needed to do something. Like he had needed to help Fantine, he needed to help now.

“You… you once mentioned you spoke a tad bit of Italian, isn’t that right?” The headmaster asked, and Valjean frowned. What did his ability of speaking Italian had to do with this?

“It is, but how will that be of any help?”

“Well, we… we don’t know if it was the trauma or something else, but ever since we rescued him, his son will only speak in Italian. It… it seems his mother’s family is Italian, but without being able to talk to him, we can’t contact them. We have him at school, we gave him something to eat and we’re keeping an eye on him, but… Won’t you try and talk to him, Jean?”

“Of course I will, monsieur” Valjean answered, not even with a second of hesitation. “I will be there right away”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll leave you with this little cliffhanger for now, my darlings (even though it's not much of a cliffhanger, as everything is already said, hehe)
> 
> Coming up: Valjean meets up with monsieur Courfeyrac's son, and can't help but be captivated by the young boy...


End file.
